This is going to be one of my most honest and uncensored blogs ever, so be prepared. It is not going to be a nice post. It will be even upsetting, so if you don't want to be upset, stop reading now. If you decide to go on reading, you may know more things about me and about why I don't like Christmas... at all.

Not everybody know this, but I am an adopted child. Only some people know because, obviously, I don't introduce myself as "Hello, I am Cinta and I am an adopted kid." Anyways, I am an adopted child and I was adopted when I was 12. So for about  8 years before that my life was like hell. Everybody say that Christmas are happy times for children. I only remember one happy Christmas during my childhood; after that Christmas, everything changed dramatically and my dislike of Christmas started as soon as I was 7.

I was born to a single mother who never cared about me and my siblings. I used to live with my grandmother and those are the only happy times I can remember as a child. Then my mother met a man, and he introduced him to us as her boyfriend. We left my grandmother's house to go to live with this man... and we started to go through hell. He seemed to be a nice man, giving presents to me and my siblings, taking us to the park, joking, playing with us, and being a lovely person... until we were in his house. Then this man showed his true colours.

Christmas was getting nearer and nearer. I was almost seven years old. One day, I asked a very innocent question, "Can we go to the shopping centre to look at Christmas presents?" I didn't see the blow coming, but it knocked me off my chair. The next thing I remember is that I was locked up in my bedroom, without any food or water, for the rest of the day and night. He yelled terrible things at me, and I couldn't understand what I had done so bad as to deserve that. And I couldn't understand why my own mother hadn't defended me. So that Christmas we didn't celebrate anything and we didn't get any present.

Next year, this man decided that it was going to be better for his job to move and go to another city. A city that was in the opposite part of Spain, so I wouldn't be able to be close to my grandmother, the only person who showed me some love at that time. I didn't expect any love from my mother by that time. We moved to Barcelona during the summer, just to find out that the job he had been offered had been an empty promise. So we were in Barcelona, jobless, homeless, and without no prospects whatsoever. The most sensible thing would have been to come back to Huelva, but this man said he was going to find a job there. We went to live at a hostel, and thus my nightmare started. 

A new Christmas was approaching. This man had no job still, we hardly ever had food, and my mother had started working in a brothel. Sounds sordid, doesn't it? That wasn't the worst... I was only seven years old, so I committed again the mistake of asking what we were going to do for Christmas. This time he didn't hit me. This time he decided he wanted to have some "fun". So that very day he started to sexually abuse of me almost on a daily basis. What about my mother? Well, she used to hold me still when I started kicking to try to avoid the unavoidable. This happened for two years. Two long years in which I lost my childhood.

After that, I tried to kill myself in two occasions, almost always when Christmas was coming. Finally I found the strength to tell my neighbours about what happened to me and my siblings and I were sent to a children's home. When I was finally adopted 3 years later, I started celebrating Christmas again, although they are not happy times for me. However, when my mum (my adoptive mum, the one I consider my REAL mum) died five years ago, all my wishes to celebrate Christmas died as well.

Now you all know. So, taking into account that lots of bad things have happened to me during this time of the year, don't expect me to be happy or to wish to celebrate Christmas in a jolly way. I am sorry for this horrible rant, but I really needed to say it out loud. And the fact is that now I am feeling better.

Mark Stone
12/23/2012 23:13:57

It was very brave of you to post this. I'm proud of you, Cinta.

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Kim stapf
12/23/2012 23:25:29

So sorry sweetie:( that was hard to tell people. You are a very strong individual Cinta. There are lots of people who don't feel the holiday because of reason like yours. New Year's Eve I lost a brother to a car accident because of alcohol. I don't know what you feel, but I know the feeling. You are in my heart .

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Cinta
12/24/2012 00:32:50

Thank you, Mark and Kim.

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12/24/2012 00:35:42

I wish I knew what to say Cinta but you are very brave to share this with all of us. I'm proud to have you as a friend.

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Ben
12/24/2012 01:50:35

I can't imagine at all what that would be like but I see why you dislike Christmas. I think I would feel the same way too.

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Antoñi Delgado
12/24/2012 03:27:02

You are really brave sharing with us. But I think that there are not enough words to say.

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Cinta
12/24/2012 04:52:54

Thanks, Peter, Ben and Antoñi. I am lucky for having met you.

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Margaret Kaliczynski
12/24/2012 10:39:01

Hello Cinta, It was a terrible story of your childhood, you should have the best memory of your life,however unfortunately you don't have this kind of memories...I wish you from all my heart that your life will be filled now with everything what is the best in life because you deserve:love. I know your life will be full of blessings. Love margaret

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12/24/2012 11:07:59

It hurts my heart that you went through all those things, I hope your share brings you peace and closure in some ways.

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1/7/2013 04:28:49

Cinta, I am sorry I did not read this when you published it. The post blew me away. I am also sorry about the horror and abuse you suffered, but what really astounds me is your current positive demeanor. Everything I've read by you has been so happy, outgoing and uplifting. I would never have thought you had a difficult childhood at all. I guess I will have to reexamine some of my assumptions about people.

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